Blast from the Past
by JLawismyinspiration
Summary: Sam gets an unexpected blast from the past.


Another case finished, and boys were packing up their motel room to continue on their journey. Shoving clothes into their duffel bags and packing away records of their previous hunt. Lifting their bags, Sam and Dean exited the motel room to find a young girl standing outside their room. Not just any girl, but Jane, the daughter of the family they had just saved.

"Hey Jane," said Sam, "What are you doing here? Is there a problem?"

Narrowing her eyes, she spoke with a maturity beyond her thirteen years.

"I know you guys aren't real FBI agents."

"I don't know what you're talking about sweetheart," said Dean.

Something had been off about Jane the whole case. The minute they'd stepped into her house, and she came bounding down the stairs asking who was at the door. She opened it, But with one look at the two of them she stopped short.

_ Sam and Dean knocked on the door, Dean pulling at his tie, ready to unleash yet another round of bull FBI crap. They heard pounding from inside the house, and the door swung open to reveal a young girl. She smiled at first, but when she looked up to their faces begin to stutter uncontrollably._

_"You're not-that's not-possible-you're-"_

_ Then she had burst into tears and fled back up the stairs. Hearing the door slam, Sam and Dean cast worried glances at each other. Fortunately, her mother and father, who seemed vaguely familiar to Sam, came in from the kitchen, and had not witnessed the incident. _

_ And it had been like that throughout the whole case. It was a simple spirit job, but the spirit had been linked to a bracelet than had been hidden in the floorboards of the house. Sam and Dean checked from top to bottom, occasionally catching the young girl staring, but never for long. The girl had thrown an absolute fit when they tried to check her room. Fifteen minutes later, she huffed downstairs with all her prized possessions, that they weren't allowed to see. Her parents had been appalled at her behavior. Eventually though, they found the bracelet, burned it and declined an invite to stay for coffee._

"I do." she said, eyes burning, "Because, I've seen him before. He dead. He's supposed to be."

"What?" Dean asked.

She huffed a sigh, and rolled her eyes, turning to Sam.

"You don't remember me, but I know you."

Sam stared back, confused.

"Okay. I don't get it."

She sighed again.

"December twenty fourth, two thousand and four. You went to Christmas dinner with your girlfriends family. You held a four year old girl on your lap the whole time. That little girl..."

She trailed off titling her head up to lock eyes with him, "That was me."

"Oh my god."

"Yeah."

"Janie."

"Yup."

Suddenly she was in his arms and whether it was the way he hugged her the same as back then, or how tall he was, she felt like she was four years old again.

"Jess died, and you, you were gone."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

Sam laughed into her hair, for the first time in what felt like forever. Placing her back on the ground he stroked her head, and leaned down to kiss it. She closed her eyes.

"You should get going," he whispered.

"I know." She reached in her pocket, and pulled out a photo, torn on the sides.

"I think you should have this."

He accepted the picture, and turning it over in his hands, felt his breath catch in his throat. There in all her beauty, was Jessica. She was standing and looking at the camera, her smile wide and pure. He stood behind her in the photo, but instead of the lens, his eyes were focused on her. One hand is on her arm, and the other is rested on her hair, ever so lightly, as if she were made of glass. His eyes aren't even visible in the picture, but you can tell that he's looking at Jess like she's the most important, most precious, most beautiful girl in the entire world. He can feel the love he felt-no- stills feels for her radiating off the photograph. he look up, and gives Jane a watery smile. Her eyes too, are filled with tears.

"Thank you." he chokes out.

Jane just smiles, kisses her hand and pats it against his cheek, earning a chuckle from him.

Then she turns and walks back down the road.

Sam turns and gets into the Impala, glancing at Dean to see the same watery eyes.

But they shake it off. They always do. No commitments in this life.

Except, not really. because on Christmas Eve day, Jane's mother calls her into the kitchen to ask if shows anyone from Wisconsin. Jane says no, but her mother still hands her the postcard. It's almost blank, no return address, nothing but a small something wrapped in a bit of brown paper. She opens it up to find the smallest Christmas ornament possible, and impossibly tiny but yet perfect crystal Christmas tree. Her mother seems confused, but they hang it on the tree all the same.

But when next Christmas comes a year later, nothing, no postcard, no ornament, though the tiny tree still hangs. Jane supposes she shouldn't be surprised.

It's not until ten years later, after countless Christmases wishing for a postcard and countless disappointments. She still keep the box of prized possessions under her bed, she never took them out after that day. Sighing, she plops down onto her bed, and pulls out the box. Seeing an unfamiliar bump, she pulls at it, to reveal a set of brown paper wrapped postcards, from all over the country. Most are blank, except for the last one. It's from falls Creek, the very town the Jess was from, where their last Christmas together had taken place. And taped to the back of the postcard was a picture. Her at four years old, a toothy smile on her face, and Sam looking so much younger, smiling at the camera. And written on the card...

_Family doesn't end it blood. xo_

_Sam_

She holds the postcard against her heart.


End file.
